Inconvenience

Chapter 1: New-Year's Day

This all just sucks ass. Sucks saggy whore ass.

This was Max's primary thought as he sat in his bedroom, his closet pushed in front of the door with a broken lock. He could hear pretty much everything that was happening on the outside. His parents, with about a dozen others like them, yelling and whooping as they injected themselves with the drug-of-the-month. From the sounds they were making, he could guess that they were on shitty angel dust or something that'd make 'em see weird crap. At least he could walk around the place in some manner of peace if they thought he was some hallucination, he could get himself something to eat or make a damned cup of coffee.

A grumble from his stomach affirmed the decision, and he slipped out of his room through the small crack in the door only he could fit through. Silently, his bare feet pattered on the dusty carpet until he got to the room that barely qualified as a kitchen. He always thought it was more akin to a crack den than anything you'd actually keep food in.

Ignoring a howl from the next room, he plucked a box of pop-tarts from the cupboard and began making a cup of coffee. As he pulled himself onto the counter-top to get his favourite mug, he pulled his hands back in shock. In the middle of his left palm, a shard of glass was jutting out, a small trail of blood staining it. With a quiet curse he pulled out the shard and swept his arm over where he tried to pull himself up. Sure enough, there was a shattered syringe lying there.

With a low growl he checked to see if anything had actually been in the syringe. The last thing he needed was to get high off of his parents' scraps. He didn't see anything suspect so he continued on, ignoring the stinging in his palm.

He slithered out of the kitchen with his box of pop-tarts and cup of coffee, glad everyone else in the house had better things to be doing than bothering him. He dipped the treats into the coffee when he'd settled again.

Before long he needed to piss. Bad. He'd held it in ever since his parents' guests had arrived. He did not want to meet one of them in the bathroom again and have them watch him piss with a retarded look on their face. Twice was more than enough. He opened his bedroom window instead and kneeled on the sill, pissing out onto the pavement with a sigh of relief.

After finishing his sorry excuse for a dinner, he stripped to his underwear and climbed under the covers of his bed. The mouldy blanket did little in the way of comfort, but it was better than nothing. Max could easily blur out the noises of the house, but the stinging of his hand kept him awake longer than he'd have liked. He gave the cut a few licks and clutched the pillowcase tight in his fist. It must've worked, because he was asleep before long.

When he woke up, it was still dark outside, but the silence told him that it must be early in the morning. He dressed in the same things as yesterday and crept out of his room. Max decided to check if the coast was clear before anything else. He peered into the living room and saw about half-a-dozen people passed out. His parents were thankfully among them. He prayed to whatever gods weren't there that they'd overdosed. A shift in his bitch mother's position proved his prayers unanswered, as usual. He dashed away as quietly as he could. His mother was at her worst after she just woke up, and Max knew it was in his best interest to be out of the place before she could get something in her. Food? Beer? More drugs? It varied from morning to morning.

A quick glance at the kitchen clock told him that it was nearly 6 am. A perfect time for a morning stroll 'til noon. He eyed his dad's wallet on the counter and took 20 bucks from it. He'd be able to eat something half-decent with money like that.

After making sure that the front door closed with a click the sound of a mouse's squeak, Max whistled a tune with his hands in his hoodie pockets. He began to think, of all the ways to start the new year, this wasn't the worst. At least this time he didn't hafta put up with people and their issues. He wondered if anywhere would actually be open. McDonald's seemed like the type to be cruel and corporate enough to shanghai some liberal-arts majors into working New-Year's day.